The Worst Father-In-Law in Paris
by engineerwenlock
Summary: Literally just a couple of crack drabbles featuring an out-of-character Gabriel Agreste/Hawkmoth misusing his superpowers to be an overbearing father-in-law to a pregnant Marinette. And a couple more about Ladybug dealing with other realities of being a pregnant superhero, such as the coincidence that both Marinette and Ladybug are pregnant at the same time.
1. Vitamins

_Imagine years down the road, Marinette and Adrien get married and keep facing off against Hawk Moth. They know each others' secret identities, but the rest of Paris doesn't. Gabriel has his suspicions that his son and daughter-in-law are also his nemeses, but he's never arrived at definitive proof either way._  
 _Now imagine that Marinette and Adrien announce at a family dinner that Marinette is pregnant._  
 _Zoom in on Gabriel's face as he is visually going "Oh crap! Oh crap! Oh crap!" He arrives at the conclusion, "I guess I'll have to cut back on the evilizing, because I don't want to risk my grandbaby."_

Chloe Bourgeois (a.k.a Queen Bee!) was ecstatic to hear Ladybug's announcement. Not only did babies make adorable accessories, but this meant Chloe got to keep her miraculous full-time. All the others did as well. And as tedious as it would be to have to work with Rena Rouge All. The. Time., it was worth it. The plan was simple. Ladybug would arrive late to every battle, usually just in time to purify the akuma. Hopefully that would be enough to keep her -and her soon to be adorable baby bump- safe.

Anyway, today they had worked out that the (garishly dressed, unkempt) supervillain they were fighting was a physician in her civilian life. She called herself Bed Rest and was flying around city dispensing aggressively accurate medical recommendations. A shouting match at the park became forced meditation - "Outbursts like this exacerbate hypertension," shouted the akumatized woman. A violently coughing girl ran screaming from a giant pill bottle chasing her. Chloe snickered as they passed an obese man tied to a treadmill. All in all, not a bad way to start the day. Until she heard Chat Noir's scream.

"No," he shouted, throwing himself between the villain and a massive pill hurtling toward Ladybug, who had just arrived on the scene. It hit him, dissolving as he he fell to the ground and - nothing. He was purrfectly (ugh, his puns were invasive) perfectly fine. Meanwhile Carapace and Rena Rouge restrained the villain and were about to release the akuma (it was in her prescription pad) when Chat Noir said, "Wait! I need to talk to Hawkmoth."

Chat grabbed the akuma by the shoulders and practically growled, "I know you can hear me, Hawkmoth. I also know you're human under that suit, so I'm going to tell you this in the hopes that there are lines even you won't cross. Ladybug is pregnant. That means she is off-limits. In case you don't actually have any human decency, let me put it this way. If so much as one hair on her head comes to harm because of you during her pregnancy, I will not rest until I find you and we discover what happens when I use Cataclysm on a person."

Hawkmoth's voice spoke through the akuma victim, "I promise not to harm her. You'll notice you weren't hurt at all by the projectile meant for Ladybug."

The victim added. "It was a prenatal vitamin. It has a higher dose of iron than most people need, but with just the one pill, you'll probably be fine, Chat Noir."

Meanwhile, in an creepy lair somewhere in the city, Hawkmoth laughed evil-ly, "Foiled again. But they have not seen the last of me. One way or another, Marinette, I'll have the healthiest grandbaby in the city."


	2. Gender Reveal

Authors note: Four reviews in one morning! It love this fandom. Here's the other drabble in this series. No idea if there will be more but it was a ton of fun to write.

Alya was willing to put up with a lot - even working with Queen Bee on a regular basis - if it meant keeping her miraculous on her at all times. She constantly had to pinch herself to stop the inner fangirling. She was a full-time superhero. Of course, she had to be incredibly careful about what she posted on the Ladyblog now - nothing that was not public knowledge could go online. And right now, the part of her that still wanted to blog everything was really freaking out. Hawkmoth was Ladybug's father! Or father-in-law. Alya wasn't 100% sure. And she couldn't say a word. It went down like this:

A couple months ago, Chat Noir had pressured Hawkmoth into keeping Ladybug out of the fights, something for which Alya was incredibly grateful. Villian or not, there are some lines you just don't cross. Basically, Ladybug watched from the sidelines and stepped in to purify the akuma, after it had already been defeated. But not earlier today.

Today was another baby themed akuma. They'd been coming with suspicious frequency the last few months. This time, with an oversized ultrasound wand she had been using to fire at pregnant ladies all over the city- resulting in the reveal of their baby's gender by turning the woman pink or blue from head to toe. That seemed to be the only effect thus far, which was a relief, considering how dangerous an akuma specifically targeting pregnant women could be. She also had the power to immobilize people, which she had already done to Chat Noir and Carapice. So it was up to Rena and Bee to release the akuma so Ladybug, hiding behind a building, could purify it.

At least that was the plan before Ladybug muttered, "Wait, I know that labcoat," (Rena's fox kwami gave her enhanced hearing), and then shouted, "Quick girls, grab her!"

Ladybug ran out from behind the building after the villain was secured and shouted, "Hawkmoth, I know you can hear me. Stop akumatizing my OBGyn! The poor woman is running herself ragged trying to make up missed appointments and the office is full of angry pregnant women who have had to wait an hour and a half for a blood pressure test and a urine sample."

"Wait, but -" came the reply in Hawkmoth's voice.

She cut him off, "I told you at dinner and I'll tell you again, you'll find out the gender at the reveal party like anyone else. You don't get preferential treatment because you're the grandfather."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied.

"Please. I can smell the bulls*** from here. It's going to make my morning sickness come back. I know exactly who you are. We'll talk about your evil alter-ego later, but for now, leave my doctor alone."

Hawkmoth asked, "How else will I be able to make sure my grandson?" he was trying to trip her up here, but backpedaled after Ladybug shot him a fierce glare, "Grand _child_ is safe?"

At this question, Ladybug began yelling so fast most of what she said was incoherant. Alya thought she heard "father-in-law from hell," "akuma battles are a health hazard," and "climbing wall was a terrible idea."

While Ladybug was catching her breath, Hawkmoth unhelpfully remarked, "You really ought to calm down. Remember what the doctor told you last week about your blood pressure."

Angrilly taking Hawkmoth's advice, Ladybug took a few deep breaths and then offered, "I'll let you design the nursery."

"What?"

"That's what this is about. I'll let you design your perfect - gender neutral because I'm still not telling you the gender- nursery if you leave us alone. Not another akuma until two months after the baby is born and I'll let you design the nursery."

"A tempting offer," said Hawkmoth.

Ladybug added, "But if I so much as see a butterfly between now and then, so help me, I'll dress your grandchild in tacky off the rack onsies for a year."

"But I -"

"Last week, I saw one with "Juicy" written on the bum."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Do we have a deal?"

"Alright fine!"


	3. Bad Onesie Contest

After a long but enjoyable day of teaching, Adrien entered the lobby of his apartment building. Before he headed upstairs, the doorman stopped him, saying, "Mr. Agreste, another package for you."

"Thank you, Philippe," Adrien replied, taking the package. Thankfully it was much smaller than the swing he'd had to lug up the stairs the day before. This box was probably more baby clothes or another blanket.

"That's the third one this week."

"Yeah, my wife's been buying a lot of things for the baby lately." He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry for the trouble."

"It's alright. I understand. My daughter told us she was expecting last month and now all my wife can do is knit little booties. I told her, the baby only has two feet, but she still won't stop. We'll probably have about a thousand of them by the time the baby actually comes."

Adrien laughed, "Please, whatever you do, don't let your wife share the pattern with Marinette."

"Of course not. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Have a wonderful evening."

"You too."

When Adrien got upstairs, he opened the package. He was right, more baby clothes - three onesies. He unfolded the first one. It was a deep red, with white lettering on the front that read, "Mommy is so much nicer now that she can drink again."

" _Okay,"_ he thought, " _I guess Marinette misses wine more than she's been letting on."_

The next one was made from pink camouflage patterned fabric, with large tractor on the front, embellished with rhinestones. " _Wow. I've been out of the fashion world for a few years, but I think I'd notice if something like this was suddenly in vogue."_

The last was white with black lettering, "They sold my toys for crack money."

" _Okay this has to be a mistake."_

"Marinette," he called, "Are you home?"

"Kitchen," she replied.

He found his wife in the kitchen, baking cookies with Tikki. He gave Marinette a kiss and asked her about her day. Meanwhile Plagg flew out of his pocket and into the fridge to help himself to some cheese.

Then Adrien told her, "I think Amazon must have mixed up one of your orders." He showed her the 'They sold my toys for crack money' onesie to emphasize his point.

"Oh no!" she said, "They sent it to the wrong house."

"The wrong house? You meant to order this?"

"Yes, it's for your father?"

"I don't think it's his size," teased Adrien.

"No, no, as like a warning, in case he gets any akuma ideas."

"Oh I like the way you think!" He gave her another kiss.

"Too bad I sent it to the wrong address, Marinette mused, "Oh well, Nathalie will help me get it to him."

"I'm not sure she-"

"Oh she will. She's the one who fishes them out of the garbage and donates them to charity every week. We have an arrangement."

"Wait, this isn't the first time you've done this?"

"Nope. I've been putting an order in every week for two months."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"I was sort of worried it would hurt your feelings. I know you like it when your father and I get along."

"No, no, Princess. I don't like it when he's mean to you. You, on the other hand, can do whatever you want to him. Especially after that fiasco last week at the baby shower."

Marinette chuckled.

"I just wish you would have told me earlier," Adrien said with a grin, " I bet I can find worse clothes to send him than you can."

"You're on. The usual stakes?

"Of course."

"How do we tell who wins?"

"What if we got Nathalie to be the judge?"

"Does she judge by her opinion or your father's?"

"My father's. She's developed a comprehensive scale she uses to gauge his moods. In fact, I showed her methodology to some colleagues in the social science department one time and they practically begged her to publish it."

"Alright! You're on! Best two out of three?"

"Sure."

Marinette won the first week with a pink-with-gold-lettering "Future Trophy Wife" shirt. It came with leopard spotted pants. Adrien was actually glad she won that week, because he was definitely planning on dressing Emma in the "Blame it on dark matter; everyone else does" onesie he'd found. He asked Nathalie to save it from the donation pile.

The second week, Marinette ordered a matching set for Gabriel and the baby - hers said, "If found, please return to Grandpa." Gabriel's shirt read, "I'm Grandpa." It completely backfired - Nathalie actually had to talk him out of wearing it to a video call with some Japanese investors the next day. Meanwhile, Adrien's simple pink skull and crossbones onesie was a solid 5.3 on the Nathalie Scale.

For week three, Marinette designed and made the outfit herself. It was a tiny three-piece Christmas suit. The lapels and pockets were forest green satin, while the suit itself was made from red polyester polka-dotted with Santa Claus' face and tiny snowflakes. The suit pants were made from the same forest green satin, but with an applique reindeer on the bum. A Christmas tree tie and white shirt with red pinstripes completed the look.

"Wow! That's really good! I'm still going to win, though." Adrien remarked as he saw Marinette wrapping the finished product to send to the Agreste Mansion.

"Why, what did you find?"

"It's a surprise," he smirked.

A week later, after their orders were delivered, they got the call from Nathalie that Adrien was indeed the winner. She added, "And I want you to know I'm done helping you with this nonsense. I just spent thirty minutes trying to untangle the remains of Adrien's winning outfit from the blades of the paper shredder."

Adrien showed his wife the online photo of the outfit he had ordered. It was a shirt made from unpatterned mustard yellow fabric at the top, with plum colored fabric printed with trees beginning just above the waist. It came with matching mustard yellow pants, with four ruffles starting halfway up the calf and nearly covering the feet.

"I don't get it," said Marinette. "I mean, that's not my favorite look, but I broke like four cardinal rules of design with my outfit. Why did he hate yours so bad?"

"Easy," Adrien replied, "I have twenty-eight years of experience disappointing my father. You, on the other hand, have impressed him from day one."

"Adrien -"

"Alright fine. He just really hates ruffles."

 _Author's note: Thank you for sticking with me through the rearranging of this story. If you're curious, Adrien's winning outfit can be found at sassyrufflesboutique dot com. It's a popular style in the southern US, and I'm not trying to bash it, but I do think a Parisian high fashion designer would hate it._


	4. Press Conference

Author's note: No Hawkmoth in this one but it's in the same AU, so I'm including it in this drabble series.

Ladybug was stuck at a press conference panel with the rest of the team and she really had to pee. Little Emma was practically jumping on her bladder. Other than the heartburn, and the inability to be comfortable like ever, and the swollen ankles, oh and the fact that she could no longer see her feet, this was probably the worst part of pregnancy.

"As we've told you before," she continued, crossing her legs, "Hawkmoth is not gone for good; he's just agreed to give us a few months' hiatus."

"Agreed?" asked a reporter, "Did you make a deal with Hawkmoth?"

"Look," said Chat, "Given the choice between making a small deal with a supervillain and risking the safety of her unborn child, Ladybug chose the lesser of two weevils."

"Really Chat?" Ladybug asked, rolling her eyes. He'd been making insect puns all week and it was getting old.

"What can I say, I made it up on the fly," he remarked, casually leaning back on his chair with his hands supporting the back of his head.

"Still, how can we be sure this deal isn't dangerous for the city?"

Before Ladybug could say anything in her defense, Rena Rouge stood up, seething, "You mean how can you trust _Ladybug_ who has been defending the city for over a decade? You can't be serious!"

"But if we don't know what the deal was, how can we be sure?"

"Because the deal was of rather personal nature and it's none of your dang business!" she sat down

"Speaking of personal," added the reporter, "Ladybug, there's a theory floating around that your civilian identity is the wife of former Gabriel model, Adrien Agreste. Can you address those rumors?"

Chat fell backwards in his chair.

Ladybug wasn't doing much better. "I well - I," she stuttered.

Luckily, Queen Bee came to her rescue. "There are so many things wrong with that statement, I should have you thrown out of the room. One, you should know better than to ask us personal questions. Two, while I don't actually like Marinette as a person, I'm not going to stand by and let you reduce one of my top five favorite designers in the city to 'the wife of a former model.'" She stood up and pounded her fist on the table.

Meanwhile, Chat had extracted himself from the collapsed folding chair. He set up the chair again and assumed an 'I meant to do that' expression.

Queen Bee continued, "This is 2028 and you're talking like it's the 1950's. I literally bought every piece from Marinette Dupain-Cheng's fall line last year because it's all amazing and I for one won't let you get away with calling her Adrien's wife as if she's just an accessory. Security, take him away."

"I still think Ladybug is Marinette," shouted the reporter as he was being hauled out of the room.

Several other reporters began shouting questions at the same time. This press conference was getting out of hand and Ladybug was getting worried about her secret identity. "Lucky charm," she whispered under the table, and ended up with a bottle of water. She thought for a moment before dumping the entire bottle onto her lap. Ladybug stood up and everyone fell silent. "My water just broke. I'm in labor. This panel is over. Rena, Queenie, could you help me out? Carapace, grab Chat and follow us before he passes out."

Author's Note: I've written a few other drabbles following this plot thread but I've realized that they've diverged too far from the original intent of this story to remain in this drabble collection. I'm moving them to a new story all on their own.


End file.
